


Home for the Holidays

by tony_starkrogers



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: #jimgoestovulcan, Baking, Domestic Fluff, E rating will not appear until the epilogue, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mistletoe, Nightmares, Soul Bond, Telepathy, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Mind Melds, mild h/c, so it is skippable if you wish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:05:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tony_starkrogers/pseuds/tony_starkrogers
Summary: Besides, part of him wants to take this chance and run with it, just to see what it would be like... being with Spock.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my gift to you: a shamelessly self-indulgent k/s holiday fic chock full of all my favorite tropes! I hope you enjoy it, and may the next year bring you the Kirk to your Spock (or vice versa). 
> 
> Also, I've decided to include an E-rated epilogue, but the rest of this fic is T, if anyone is wondering.
> 
> As always, you can always come find me on tumblr! I live [@jynserso](http://jynserso.tumblr.com).

Jim comes out of the steam-filled bathroom with a towel slung around his neck and his hair wet from a real water shower when he's startled by a buzz at the door.

"Enter," he calls, giving his hair a vigorous toweling and emerging to find Spock standing just inside the doorway, staring at his bare chest with an air of horrified fascination.

"Mister Spock!" he says, grinning at the Vulcan delightedly. "What can I do for you?"

Spock purses his lips thoughtfully. "There is a matter I wish to discuss; however, I am uncertain where to begin."

"Well Mister Spock, Jim says, going over to his closet and rummaging for a spare shirt, "I generally find that it's best to begin at the beginning, wouldn't you agree?"

"Very well, Captain," Spock says, folding himself neatly into the chair across from Jim's. "I regret to inform you that I must take a week of shore leave over the Terran holiday Christmas. My mother extended the invitation some time ago, and while I initially declined her offer, my mother can be a very... persistent woman. I have ultimately accepted her invitation."

"And this is a problem somehow?" Jim asks, before sighing and rolling his eyes. "Look who I'm talking to, of course it is. Look, Spock... I know Vulcans like to think they're above such silly things as _fun_ and _vacation_ , but you're also half-human - you've got to let yourself relax sometime. It's great that you're going to see your mom, okay? I know how much you miss her."

Spock quirks an eyebrow at him. "Having anticipated your response, Captain, I have already made the arrangements," he says. "I would like to ask you to accompany me."

Jim gapes at his first officer, who's looking as cool and collected as ever, as though they are merely discussing the weather.

"Yes, of course!" Jim says before he can think twice. "But are you really _sure_ you want me to meet your parents? _Why_?"

Spock's lips soften in that way he has of almost-smiling. "Because you are my friend, Jim," he says simply, and Jim's heart warms at the words. "Is it not customary to invite friends to see one's home?" Spock hesitates then, and Jim can't be one hundred percent sure with Spock, but he thinks the Vulcan seems almost... nervous?

"Also, my parents might be under the impression that we mean to be bonded."

" _Bonded_?" Jim yelps, staring at Spock in shock. "You mean as in _married_? Tell me, Mister Spock, how exactly did they come to have this ' _impression_ '? Because I don't know if you've noticed, but we're _not_ married, not even a little bit."

Spock leans forward, his expression earnest and almost pleading, and _damn_ his eyes are warm and soft and Jim just wants to lean forward and... Jim gives himself a good mental slap and shakes himself out of it. He is a serious starship captain, thank you very much, and he is definitely not a blushing school-kid with a crush.

“Captain,” Spock says, “you must understand that my mother is human, and she often worries about me, however illogical those worries may be. If I sometimes go too far in attempting to keep her happy, I must assume that failing is due to my own humanity.”

Jim frowns, jabbing his finger at Spock. “Hey now -- wanting to make your mom happy isn’t a bad thing where I come from -- it’s a good thing. I get that.” Jim pauses, thinking of all the time he spent trying to make his own mother happy, until after years of bitterness and resentment and angry silence, he finally realized that it was a lost cause and gave up trying.

“But come on,” Jim says, “what did you tell them to make them think we’re married without actually lying your ass off?”

“I merely said that we had committed ourselves in the human fashion,” Spock says, “but I did not specify the nature of that relationship. My mother may have assumed that meant we had been married, and I did not correct her.”

“And you want me to do... what, exactly?” Jim asks. “Pretend to be your husband so your parents will stop playing matchmaker?”

“Essentially, yes,” Spock says. He still looks mildly freaked, like he’s worried that Jim will blow up at him. “Jim -- I am aware that this is a lot to ask. I would not ask this of you, but... understand that I have already been rejected by the one who was to be my _telsu_ when I was a child. I will not bond unless I have chosen the person I will spend my life and share my mind with.”

Jim studies Spock thoughtfully. He would never say this to his face, but he thinks that Spock is secretly a lot more romantic and emotional than he lets on. One thing’s for sure: there’s hidden depths beneath Spock’s cool exterior that few people ever get to see, and part of him wants to take this chance and run with it, just to see what it would be like, being with Spock.

“Alright Mister Spock,” he says abruptly, “you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll be your fake husband to keep your parents happy. Now... chess?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air on Vulcan is hot and dry. The sun beats down on the red sands, sending waves of shimmering heat through the air. Jim steps out of the shuttle and instantly feels like his skin is on fire and a sehlat is sitting on his chest.
> 
> It's _wonderful_.

The shuttle ride to Vulcan is quiet for about the first fifteen minutes before Spock says, "so, perhaps you should know exactly what I told my parents about this."

Jim tears his gaze away from Spock's hands at the controls and pulls himself out of a particularly vivid daydream starring Spock's long, capable fingers. Usually, he tries to keep his imagination firmly under wraps, but hey -- he's on his way to pretend to be Spock's fake husband, what do you expect a guy to do?

Jim tips his head back and resists the urge to groan in frustration. "Yes, I suppose I should," he says.

"Well," Spock begins, "we began to grow closer after your death on the Enterprise, because we realized that second chances are rare, and time is precious."

"That's it?" Jim asks, frowning over at Spock.

Spock blinks at him. "I said nothing but the truth, Jim," he says... "after a fashion."

Jim frowns, thinking about it, and yeah, he can see Spock's point. From the moment he woke up in Starfleet medical (and even before then, if he's honest with himself), he and Spock had been growing steadily closer. They've certainly come a long way from brawls on the bridge, and Spock no longer treats Jim like an irresponsible cadet. And sometimes, Jim swears he sees something there in Spock's eyes, something warm and soft and  _constant_. Spock cares about him, Jim is certain of it, and he definitely cares about Spock.

So yeah, Jim can see how everything Spock said was true... what he hadn't expected was how much he wished it _were_ true in the way they were going to pretend it was.

"Yeah, all right," Jim says gruffly, looking down at his hands. "I see what you mean."

Then, because he's Jim Kirk, he gives Spock a saucy grin.

"So, do we go out on dates? Who steals the blankets? What's the verdict on pet names?"

Spock tilts his head and gives Jim the eyebrow, but the almost-smile is back, so Jim counts that as a victory. "Our positions do not leave us much time for 'dates' per say, but we occasionally take shore leave together, and we spend much of our spare time playing chess or sparring. You let me use most of the covers since you know I chill easily, but you use this concession as an excuse to cuddle. 'Pet names' are largely illogical and inappropriate in front of the crew, but you prefer "sweetheart" and I find it... acceptable."

Jim snorts. "Just 'acceptable'?" But hey, that was actually exactly what I would have said -- you're better at this than you think, Spock."

Spock all but rolls his eyes at him. "Of course it is what you would have said, Jim -- I chose you as my spouse because I know you.

Jim stares at Spock openmouthed, completely wrong-footed. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he can feel his face flushing, and he honestly has  _no_ idea what to say, because how on earth is he supposed to respond to... whatever the hell  _that_ was?

"Yeah, I guess you do," Jim says, "but what do I say when they ask me about you?"

Spock gives him a withering look. "You are not unintelligent, Captain," he says, "I am confident you will know the answers to any question they might ask."

And here's the thing: Spock is absolutely right, Jim does know. It just opens up a whole other emotional minefield, putting it all in the context  _marriage_.

He knows that Spock meditates more than he sleeps, he knows that Spock first took up chess because he was fascinated that a game of logic could have been created by illogical humans, he knows that Spock takes care of his body rigorously, he knows that he plays a kind of Vulcan harp and has a fondness for pre-reform Vulcan poetry.

Jim looks at Spock, who's gazing back at him earnestly, and thinks  _yeah, this could actually work_.

"Okay," he says, "let's do this thing."

*** 

The air on Vulcan is hot and dry. The sun beats down on the red sands, sending waves of shimmering heat through the air. Jim steps out of the shuttle and instantly feels like his skin is on fire and a sehlat is sitting on his chest.

It's _wonderful_.

Jim notices that Spock relaxes minutely the moment he has both feet on the ground, which, because it's Spock, means that some of the tightly-coiled tension drains out of him, softening the lines of his face and the slope of his shoulders. Spock takes a deep breath and tilts his face towards the sun, soaking it up like the desert creature he is.

Jim watches him, mesmerized, until he feels something warm twisting his stomach that has nothing to do with the heat.

"So," he says, clearing his throat and hoisting his duffle on his shoulder, "Where to next?"

Spock blinks and looks at him as though he's only just remembered Jim was there.

They end up picking up a sleek hovercar. Jim lets out a whoop when he sees it, and Spock's lips quirk as he offers Jim the driver's seat. "I did not know you had such a fondness for cars," Spock remarks as Jim runs his hands lovingly over the wheel.

Jim grins at him. "Yeah, well I did learn a lot about engineering when I used  to sneak into the Riverside shipyards as a kid."

Spock raises his eyebrows. "I am singularly unsurprised," he says, utterly deadpan.

Jim laughs brightly and beams at Spock as he tightens his hands on the wheel, and then they're off, the warm breeze whipping around them and blowing Spock's bangs back from his forehead.

Spock directs them through a narrow valley with steep mountains sloping up on either side. At the end of the valley, JIm pulls to a halt, because he's staring up at the peak ahead of them, which is topped by a freaking mansion.

"Spock?" he says weakly, looking at the Vulcan for confirmation. He's never done well with the rich and wealthy, and he can feel the beginnings of apprehension tightening in his gut.

Fight or flight, he thinks ruefully. But let's be honest, if it wasn't Spock, he would've turned tail and ran a long time ago. Hell, he never would've agreed to such a hair-brained scheme in the first place. But this  _is_ Spock. This is Spock's planet, and this is his family -- it's all what makes Spock who he is. And, because he's maybe possibly got a bit of a  _thing_ for Spock, Jim's willing to do any number of ridiculous things for him. And so, when Spock merely nods at him, Jim grits his teeth in determination and takes them in.

***

Spock's parents wait for them at the front of the house.

Jim jumps down from the car and busies himself with their luggage to hide his nerves, and glances over to see Spock surreptitiously flattening his bangs into place. Spock naturally catches him looking and snatches his hands away, but it's too late. Jim can't resist smirking at him, just a little -- he still remembers the feeling of mortification that swept through him when he realized that the Vulcan ambassador and his wife who were coming aboard the Enterprise also happened to be none other than Spock's parents... and that Spock hadn't told him. He doubts that made the best impression on Spock's father, Jim thinks, trying not to squirm under Sarek's stern gaze.

"Spock," Sarek says simply, " _dif-tor heh smusma_ , my son." Sarek offers the _ta'al_ , which Spock mimics perfectly as he returns the greeting.

"And Captain James Kirk," Sarek says, transferring his gaze to Jim. "Welcome to Vulcan."

Jim grins and lifts his hand in the _ta'al_. "Peace and long life," he says in a passable Vulcan. "Thank you for your hospitality," he says, turning to Lady Amanda. "It's good to see you again -- both of you."

Spock's mother smiles at him, the drape of her shawls doing nothing to conceal her joy at seeing her son. "Oh, but it's so good to see you!" she says. "Spock -- you've grown so much!" She pulls him into a hub, apparently unable to restrain herself any longer. "And James -- I'm so glad you could come too. We've been wanting to meet you again for a very long time, you know. Spock's told us so much about you I feel like we know you already."

"Well, it's certainly high time, then," Jim says while his mind reels. So Spock talks about him, does he? Jim glandes sideways at Spock, but Spock is studiously avoiding his gaze as they go inside.

"You'll be staying in Spock's old room," Amanda tells them as they enter what must be the ambassador's receiving room -- it's wide and spacious, with vaulted ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows. Actually, most of the house has windows everywhere -- Jim supposes it makes sense, as Vulcans are probably up before the sun and have little need for privacy.

Amanda smiles at them as she offers them tall glasses of cool water. "I'll give you two some time to freshen up after your journey and we'll all have dinner later, all right?"

"That is acceptable, mother," Spock says formally, inclining his head.

"Thank you, Lady Amanda," Jim adds fervently, smiling at her.

Amanda laughs, the sound breaking through the forced formality that's making the room feel more stifling than it already is. "Oh, there's no sirs and ma'ams here," she says. "Just Amanda will do."

"All right," Jim agrees, some of his nervousness loosening its hold as he begins to think that maybe this will be okay after all. "As long as you call me Jim," he adds with a grin. "Only my mother and my teachers ever called me James, and only if I'd done something particularly naughty."

Amanda laughs again, and Jim suddenly understands far better why Spock would make up a husband to make his mother happy. It's ridiculous and crazy, but people will do all kinds of crazy things for the people they love -- Jim is just a case in point. But Jim forces himself to reign his feelings back in, because of course none of this is real. Jim is doing this for his friend, and when this is all over, they'll go back to being friends. Friends, Jim thinks as he follows Spock up the stairs, is more than enough for him.

It has to be.

***

Jim has been preparing himself for having to share a bed with Spock for as long as they're on Vulcan. After all, husbands don't sleep in different beds, unless they're fighting, which Jim doesn't _think_ they are at the moment (although of course, with Spock, you can never be one hundred percent sure). So, Jim has been preparing for this ever since Spock talked him into it, and he is naturally surprised when it's Spock who freezes at the door to his childhood room.

"Spock?" he says in some confusion when he runs face-first into the warm mass of Spock's back.

"My apologies, Captain," Spock says stiffly, stepping aside. "Please, come in."

Jim shrugs and goes into the room, crossing his arms as Spock follows him in, still avoiding his gaze.

"I don't think you really get to be nervous about this, Spock," he says once Spock closes the door behind him. "This whole thing was your idea, you know. And can you drop the sirs and Captains while we're here? I'm pretty sure husbands are allowed to call each other by their first names."

Spock gives him what is decidedly a _look_ \-- all right, it's definitely a _glare_ \-- but at least he's looking at Jim, and that's progress, right? "I am hardly 'nervous,' Jim," Spock says.

Jim raises his eyebrows. " _Riiiiight_ ," he says skeptically. "Well, I'd better change, since I'm already soaked and we just got here. What's your side of the bed?"

Spock frowns at him, a little crease appearing between his brows. "Side, Jim?" he asks, like he honestly doesn't know.

 _He probably doesn't, actually_ , Jim thinks. Spock and Uhura were a thing a while back, but Jim is guessing that Spock doesn't have much experience with this kind of intimacy. _No wonder he's nervous_ , Jim thinks, his anger fading as he looks at Spock.

"Yeah," he says. "You know, like the side of the bed you like to sleep on."

"I see," Spock says. "In that case, I have no preference. Whatever pleases you, Jim."

Jim rolls his eyes. "Well, I like whatever side is closest to the window," he tells Spock as he unzips his duffle and pulls out a change of clothes. "I also like to use far more pillows than could ever be considered logical, and I've been told that I snore. So," he says, waving his arms vaguely, "sorry in advance."

"Jim," Spock says, tilting his head with an amused look in his eyes, "you have often told me not to apologize for who I am. I advise you to do the same."

"Yeah, all right," Jim says, ducking his head to hide the pleased flush that's coloring his cheeks. "I'll see you downstairs, okay?"

"As you wish, Jim," Spock replies, his eyes warm.

Jim flushes and for a brief, fleeting moment, he imagines dragging Spock into the bathroom with him and everything they could do there together. He opens his mouth and closes it, doing some impressive mental flailing before giving it up as a lost cause and fleeing to the bathroom.

"Oh, fuck  _me_ ," Jim groans as he leans back against the door.  _Not going to happen_ , he reminds himself firmly. He takes a look at himself in the mirror -- hair rumpled, shirt sweat-soaked, pants tight in all the wrong places.  _Definitely not going to happen any time soon,_ he thinks ruefully, and decidedly turns the shower temperature as cold as it will go.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Spock sit next to each other, their legs tangling together naturally under the table. Spock's thigh is warm against Jim's, and his arm brushes Jim's while they eat. They're small, fleeting, would-be accidental touches that have Jim's skin tingling as he craves more, wondering what it would be like to touch Spock for real.

Jim comes down the stairs ten minutes later with a smile on his face and his bad mood forgotten -- it's amazing what a shower and a change of clothes can do for a person.

He follows the sound of pleasant, instrumental jazzy music into a cozy living area. Jim can see Amanda's influences everywhere in little, tasteful additions like the plush armchair in the corner, pillows lining the couch, and a knit throw resting on a chair. They're small, unobtrusive things, but they're decidedly illogical  _human_ touches designed purely to make the house feel more like a home.

And it does feel like a home, Jim thinks, smiling as he sees Spock and his mother standing by the window, Spock holding a string of lights as Amanda hums along with the music while she hangs up a long garland of evergreens.

"Ah, Captain Kirk," Sarek says as he looks up from where he's seated at the table by the window, studying a padd. "You have arrived just in time to observe the 'decoration of the house.'" He pauses, glancing up at his wife, his lips pursed fondly. "I must say that I do not fully understand the purpose of such an activity, but I have found that sometimes the best policy is not to question."

"Oh, Sarek," Amanda says, shaking her head. "It's okay to say that you've grown to like it, you know. Do you remember when Spock used to get all tangled up in the tinsel when he was a baby?"

Spock sends Jim a vaguely panicked look that plainly says "please rescue me."

Jim laughs and slides in next to him, leaning in close and taking Spock's hand in his. They haven't really talked much about pda, but holding hands seems harmless enough for husbands, right? Spock's breath hitches slightly, and Jim glances his way, worried that he's pushing too far. There's a faint greenish blush tinging Spock's cheeks, but he gives Jim a small smile and twines their fingers together.

"Please tell me you have pictures," Jim tells Amanda, "because that sounds absolutely  _adorable_."

"Of course, Jim," Amanda says, a pleased smile hovering on her lips as she looks at their joined hands.

Spock, on the other hand, is glaring at Jim, looking decidedly _not_ pleased. "Vulcan babies are hardly 'cute,' Jim," he says.

"Well  _you_ certainly were," Amanda says firmly as she finishes off the garland and steps back to admire her work. "Now, I think that looks rather nice."

"A little bit of holiday spirit never hurt anyone," Jim agrees, "even the Vulcans, though they love to deny it."

Spock shoots him an affronted look as Amanda beams at him. "I quite agree," she says. "I can tell we're going to be friends already."

Jim smiles back at her and tries not to look as uncomfortable as he feels. Amanda is great -- he genuinely likes her, and it's easy to get carried away... but he knows that he'll end up disappointing her when she finds out that none of this is real.  _Great_ , he thinks,  _another name to add on the list of adults role models I've disappointed._

Spock's grip on his hand tightens suddenly then, and his thumb rubs soothingly over Jim's. Jim looks up at Spock in surprise to see that Spock's eyes are warm as he looks at Jim, his eyebrows drawn in concern. Jim feels a wave of comfort and acceptance rush through their contact, and it's exactly what he needs. Jim lets his eyes flutter closed for the briefest of moments as he savors the feeling.

But then Amanda claps her hands and the moment is gone. Jim blinks and rubs his forehead. What is  _with_ him today?

"Now, we'll be having plomeek soup for dinner," Amanda tells them. "I hope that's all right, Jim. It's --"

"Spock's favorite," Jim says, grinning at the Vulcan, who looks like he wants to sink into the floor. "I know. He replicates it all the time on the Enterprise. Doesn't taste half-bad, either."

"Then I'll wager you'll like the real thing even more," Amanda says, smiling at him.

They follow her into the kitchen, where she gives them all bowls for their soup with instructions to "Dig in."

They pointedly avoid the big, imposing table in the dining room, for which Jim is immeasurably grateful. He never did well with intimidating meet-the-parents dinnertime interrogations -- he always managed to either say something particularly offensive, or else fall short of ridiculous parental expectations. Instead, they all mill around the kitchen, alternately eating their meals at the island or going back for more.

Jim and Spock sit next to each other, their legs tangling together naturally under the table. Spock's thigh is warm against Jim's, and his arm brushes Jim's while they eat. They're small, fleeting, would-be accidental touches that have Jim's skin tingling as he craves more, wondering what it would be like to touch Spock for real.

They talk about nothing in particular -- an average day on the Enterprise, Amanda's good will projects around Vulcan, the new planets and species they've discovered, Sarek's recent trip to Earth. It's warm and easy and not at all forced, like Jim thought it would be.

By the time he's gone back for seconds (and thirds), Jim is feeling pleasantly sleepy and content. The dishes have gone in the cycler, and the conversation has died down, leaving Jim free to lean back and rest his arm on the back of Spock's chair, his fingertips just grazing Spock's shoulder.

"Well, I'm off to bed," Amanda says at last, yawning hugely. "You boys make yourselves at home, all right?"

Jim and Spock head upstairs some time later, Jim yawning and stretching as they go. "Damn, I don't know why I'm so tired today," Jim says, rubbing his eyes. "You mind sharing a bathroom?"

"We share a bathroom on the Enterprise, Jim," Spock says, his eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"Yeah," Jim agrees, rolling his eyes, "but this is different. It's a  _thing_ , you know?"

"A thing?" Spock repeats uncomprehendingly.

Jim sighs. "Look, never mind," he says. "Let's just get some sleep, all right?"

They brush their teeth side by side in the bathroom in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Jim thinks about the Enterprise, about all the times they'd bumped into each other in their shared bathroom or used the communal showers together after a sparring session. Privacy isn't a thing they can afford on a starship -- it didn't mean anything, even if Jim secretly wished that it did. Just like this didn't mean anything, either... even if it does seem comfortingly domestic.

Spock finishes brushing his teeth and reaches for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head matter-of-factly. Jim flushes and makes a strategic retreat back to the room. By the time Spock appears, Jim's sitting back against the headboard with his pj's on and a book in hand.

"So," Jim says when Spock climbs under the covers next to him, "feeling any better now that we're actually here?"

"I have never been anything less than completely confident in my plans," Spock says blandly. It's either a blatant lie or excellent sarcasm, and right now, Jim is too tired to tell which. "I only regret any negative effects this endeavor might have on you, Jim," Spock continues. "I admit, I should have foreseen it."

"Negative... wait, back up a minute," Jim says. "What are you on about?"

"When you held my hand today, I felt your concern about disappointing my parents," Spock says. "I must apologize, Jim -- I had never intended you to suffer in helping me, no matter how unfounded your concerns might be. My parents have great respect for you, as do I." He pauses, tilting his head. "Vulcans are touch telepaths, Captain -- I thought you were aware of this."

"Yeah, but... you can actually read my thoughts just by touching me?" Jim says, frowning. "It doesn't have to be through a meld?"

"I would never violate your privacy in such a manner," Spock says at once. "To do so would be a violation. And while it is true that Vulcans can read thoughts and communicate through a meld, we also pick up certain... impressions through touch. Your mind _is_ particularly vibrant, Jim, but I only sense your surface emotions, nothing more." He pauses, studying Jim intently. "If this is distressing to you, we may avoid touching, if you wish. My parents will not find it unusual, as Vulcans are often not overly demonstrative in expressing their affection."

Jim looks down at his hands and focuses on his breathing. To be completely honest, he's not that eager to have anyone inside his head, let alone Spock. If Spock really does respect him, would that all change once he saw the things Jim's done, the things he's seen, the things he  _feels_? But this is  _Spock_ , Jim reminds himself. Spock has always been there by his side, and he's never treated Jim any differently no matter what they've been through. Logically, Jim knows that everything would be all right. Emotionally, he's just freaking out a little, but that's nothing new, right? And he knows that he can trust Spock, and he  _does_ , down to his bones. 

Jim takes a deep, steadying breath and raises his head to meet Spock's concerned gaze. 

"It's fine," he says quietly, _honestly_. "I don't mind if you see my thoughts. I've just got some things to work through, apparently."

Spock raises his eyebrows. "Things?" he repeats dubiously. 

Jim laughs, in spite of himself, in spite of this whole ridiculous situation. "That's right," he says. " _Things_." He pauses then, looking back down at his hands as he tries to gather his thoughts. "But... we're okay, right? I know this is pretty weird... for both of us."

"Jim," Spock says, and there's such warmth in his voice that Jim _has_ to look up, "we are rather more than 'okay,' in my estimation. Whatever happens, I hope you believe that we will always be friends."

Jim gives a small, half-hearted smile as he reaches for the light.

"Yeah," he says "I know that, Spock."

The words he doesn't say beat beneath his skin as he lies awake in the dark with Spock breathing quietly next to him...

_but I wish we were more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jim really is angsting all over the place, isn't he? I promise it will get better next chapter. (:
> 
> LLAP


End file.
